


In Any Universe

by kosmo-not (kk_writer)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Epic quest, Falling In Love, Griffins, Healer Shiro, M/M, Magic is Real, Orphan Shiro (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron), Prince Keith (Voltron), Quintessence, Stargazing, Time Travel, see end notes, shiro is a badass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-16 01:42:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19308076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kk_writer/pseuds/kosmo-not
Summary: Written for the prompt: In a small kingdom on the edge of a dark and forbidden magical forest, Keith is a prince longing for adventure. When a deadly disease befalls the kingdom, a humble healer's apprentice, Shiro, goes on a quest deep into the forest to find a sorceress who knows a cure for the disease, and the curious prince Keith tags along.





	1. Part 1 - A Call to Action

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to the Sheith Prompt Bang and my paired artist, the wonderful and talented [Kit_N_Kadoodle](https://twitter.com/Kit_N_Kadoodle)! <3 they drew three pieces, and they are beyond amazing - go check them out! 
> 
> PART 3 TO COME SOON!!! 
> 
> ALSO AS A HEADS UP...there are some caveats in the end notes about some canon!vld (s8) interlay - check out the notes if you want more background before you start reading.

**Part 1: A Call to Action**

_I don't believe in fate, no psychic vision / But when things fall into place, superposition_

-

[YtG](https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=1&v=oPPXn1ElqRY)

Quintessence is ubiquitous. 

It exists in all universes, at all times, and in all things, stemming from but a single source.

Because of that single source, life follows similar patterns in each universe. Every star, every tree, every life will spring forth eventually, with slight variations. Our destinies are not predetermined, but we each maintain harmony and balance by finding a purpose that corresponds with our circumstances. 

Yet there are times when the balance of life shifts. Times when forces of darkness work to break the cycle of life, using quintessence to their advantage and thwarting life in its tracks. 

In times of great darkness, there must be a champion of the light. 

 

***

_Keith_

Ruling a kingdom was not all it was cracked up to be. 

In addition to his countless duties as prince and heir to the throne of Marmora, Keith was helping out however he could for a kingdom suddenly in crisis. It was like everything was happening at once. They had had a bad crop year, and then the countryside was swept by the Scourge, a deadly illness that had already claimed a number of lives. To top it all off, they were even facing attacks at the western border. 

It was enough to keep the entire royal family busy from dawn ‘til dusk. 

Keith and his mother often agreed on tactical decisions, which made things a little easier. Queen Krolia had been involving Keith in the countless decisions that went into ruling since Keith was in his teens. She said it was to impress the weight of the responsibility he would one day bear. 

Keith also thought it might be her way of keeping him preoccupied so he stayed out of trouble. 

Now, Keith was allowed to make minor rulings regarding structures and resource allocation. It was a constant balancing act, and one that took a lot more _interacting_ than Keith would have liked. If he never again had to sit through a long-winded and grandiose speech from the council about the state of the economy in the outer settlements, Keith would consider his life fulfilled. He would much rather do this ruling thing without all the extra input.

The extra input was valuable, of course, for the sake of maintaining good relationships and getting all the information they needed to make decisions. That was something that Keith had had to remind himself repeatedly while entertaining foreign dignitaries over dinner the night before. 

Usually, dinners consisted of just him, his parents, Shiro, and sometimes Shiro’s employer, Samuel Holt, and Samuel's family. Keith looked forward to those dinners. Last night, though, there had been ten different dignitaries vying for Keith and his parents’ attention. And to make matters worse, Shiro had missed the dinner altogether, something Keith had been too preoccupied to even notice until afterward. 

It was unusual, of course, for a healer’s apprentice like Shiro to join the royal family every night for the evening meal. Maybe that was why Shiro always insisted on helping in the kitchens beforehand. It was unnecessary, in Keith’s opinion, but if helping out made Shiro more comfortable taking a seat at the royal table, then Keith would not complain, even though he wanted to. Shiro worked hard enough in the healer’s office. When they first argued about it, Shiro had insisted that it helped with his dexterity, learning how to chop vegetables and whisk eggs with one hand, which it probably did. 

It was still unnecessary. 

His friend’s absence felt all the more prevalent this morning, though, when Shiro failed to show up to spar. Shiro never missed their daily one-on-one training sessions without prior notice. 

Actually, that was wrong. There had been one other occasion in Keith's memory that Shiro had completely failed to show. It had been a few weeks ago. Something had definitely been wrong that day - Keith had found Shiro in their tower, the one overlooking the city and the ocean, looking lost in thought. He had never explained what was on his mind, what had kept him from meeting Keith that morning. 

Was Shiro’s absence again today part of the same issue? 

Keith pulled out his blade, deciding to train anyway. He was still on edge from dinner the night before, and he looked forward to these early-morning sparring sessions to clear his head before another long day of negotiations. 

He twirled his blade, getting used to its weight. It was a broadsword, one that had been gifted to Keith when he reached adulthood. Krolia and each of the knights carried one just like it. It was forged from a rare metal, denser, thinner, and more resilient than steel weapons from other kingdoms. The ore was mined from a small deposit in the vast mountain range that partitioned Marmora from the rest of the lands. Ownership of those mines caused a significant number of the disputes between Marmora and other kingdoms. It also guaranteed their defensive success in battle, thanks to the superiority of Marmoran armor. 

Keith’s mind wandered as he practiced with the blade. Shiro was still not showing. He wondered what might be keeping his friend. 

Shiro might be visiting patients, Keith thought. Samuel usually only kept the healer’s office open for regular business hours, unless there were emergencies. Perhaps there had been an emergency the night before and Shiro was up late, so he had slept in to make up for it. Maybe something else had happened. Maybe Shiro had finally caught the illness, the Scourge, himself. With how often they treated ill patients, it was only a matter of time. 

With that thought, Keith fumbled the blade and it spun as it fell, nearly missing the skin of his leg. 

He stared at it for a moment before collecting the blade and shelving it, deciding to find Shiro and set his mind at ease. 

Perhaps Samuel would know more. Work was the most likely explanation, but Keith could not shake the feeling that he had missed something. 

He hurried through corridors and down the handful of staircases to the healer’s office. The office also housed the healer’s quarters, plus extra rooms where Shiro and rest of the Holt family slept. 

Samuel opened the door after several rounds of knocking. He must be experimenting, Keith thought. 

“I had assumed Shiro was with you, your highness,” he said at Keith’s questions. He was cut off by a voice from inside the room yelling, “Is that Keith? Ahoy, Keith!” Samuel quelled his daughter with a look over his shoulder. 

Keith chose not to acknowledge Kathryn. She was far too energetic in the mornings. Instead he asked Samuel, “Is he not in his quarters?” 

Samuel opened the door wider and stepped back, gesturing to Keith to come see for himself. Then he went back to a table full of vials, most of which either had steam or smoke coming out of them. 

Kathryn, for all her enthusiasm at Keith’s presence, had already returned to her vials, ignoring Keith entirely. 

They were probably still working on compounds to treat Scourge patients, Keith thought. Colleen, Samuel’s wife, was the first herbologist Marmora had ever had. Her job had become vitally important since the Scourge had come about. Nothing they had on hand was reliably helpful in abating symptoms, as Keith understood it, much less curing the illness altogether. Colleen had departed the week before on a month-long trip to the highlands to search for new plants that the rest of the Holts could test for medicinal properties. 

Normally it was interesting to watch them work. Kathryn would talk Keith’s ear off about new findings and results. He generally found her annoying, but she was smart, like Shiro, and she cared little for formalities, unlike everyone else in Keith’s life. She was probably his closest friend growing up, until Shiro came along. 

Keith could not care less about their experiments at the moment, though. Instead, he quickly wove his way through the many tables, desks, and piles of books and lab equipment to find Shiro’s quarters. 

The door to Shiro’s room was ajar. Keith pushed it the rest of the way open and glanced around. 

It was a modest room with a small, arched window in one corner. Shiro preferred to keep the window uncovered, refusing the servants Keith would send to cover it up on cold and rainy days. Open air reminded him of his childhood, Shiro said. 

The room looked untouched. Keith knew it was always tidy, but even the things Shiro usually left out for daily use were missing. His cloak, usually draped over a desk chair, was gone. His numerous scrolls, which he kept neatly stacked in one corner of the desk, were missing too, as was larger rucksack he took on trips to the outer settlements. 

And his bow - the one Keith had commissioned for one-handed use for Shiro’s birthday - was conspicuously absent from its open case near the bed. Shiro never took the bow farther than the shooting range, and even then, he only used it in the evenings when the shooting ranges were empty. 

If he was away treating patients, he would have left the bow. 

Then Keith remembered. The day before in court, the man who had come in ranting about a cure for the Scourge buried somewhere in the Dark Forest. Shiro had been there, had seen the crazy-sounding man ranting about the cure, and when Keith had tried to make eye contact to roll his eyes at all the drama, Shiro had practically run from the hall. It was strange behavior at the time, but Keith had just assumed Shiro was running late for his next appointment. 

Now that Shiro was gone, Keith thought back on the encounter in a new light. Would Shiro really have gone after supposed cure? Surely he had seen that the man was crazy. Surely he knew that the Dark Forest was forbidden for a good reason. Near Marmoran limits, the forest was usually safe. But Keith could think of only one person who had returned unscathed after more than a handful of days in the forest. Many never returned. Krolia had forbidden travel to the Dark Forest altogether after one hunting party had come back with devastating injuries, all of them either unwilling or unable to explain what had happened to them. 

Not that Keith and Shiro had adhered to that ruling themselves. They, like many others, had gone into the forest out of curiosity when they were younger. They had turned around almost immediately, though. Keith had wished to continue, but Shiro had insisted, saying something about risking Keith’s safety. Then they had seen the bear - only at a distance, but it was enough to convince Keith to turn back. 

It had been a fun trip while it lasted. Shiro had seemed more content there than Keith had ever seen him, pulling Keith along and pointing out different kinds of grasses and trees. Even on their way back, Shiro had spent the whole time looking over his shoulder, peering around corners like he could see deeper into the woods. 

Had Keith not been there, maybe Shiro would have continued on. 

Between that memory, Shiro’s odd behavior in court the day before, and everything missing from Shiro’s room, Keith could only think of one logical explanation. 

Shiro was in the forest. 

Keith stormed out of the healer’s office, ignoring the Holts calling after him, and summoned the nearest guard. 

“I need three of your team to search the castle for the Takashi Shirogane, the healer’s apprentice. Search the shooting range, the kitchens, all the towers, including the southeast tower, and every room in the castle. Report back to me when you are finished.” 

Keith noticed a flicker of surprise and resigned acceptance on the man’s face. Surprise, perhaps, because he had worked in the castle for years. Anyone who spent more than a few weeks working for Keith’s family knew that Shiro was practically inseparable from the royal family. To find one, they usually only needed to look for the other. 

Perhaps the resigned look in his eye came from the fact that he had other duties to attend to but knew he had to bite his tongue and obey the prince. 

Keith felt a momentary pang of guilt at pulling the man away. All of the castle personnel were stretched thin at the moment. The knights had been pulled away from their duties to fend off attacks, and members of the guard had been called to serve in their place for more mundane tasks like settling disputes. The remainder of the guard had been repositioned to keep an eye on the castle, the medical tents, and the supplies. 

Searching the castle would take some time, but it could not be helped. Keith needed to be sure. If Shiro was gone, then Keith would need to go after him. 

No one should be alone in the forest, much less Shiro. Not that Keith doubted Shiro’s abilities - it was a dangerous place for anyone. But he remembered a pact they had made when they were younger. They would always have each other’s backs. They would always fight together, always travel together, always keep each other safe. That was impossible to follow as they got older and Keith went on diplomatic missions while Shiro traveled to visit patients, but Keith thought it held true for times like these. Why had Shiro gone alone? 

Keith gritted his teeth and held the guardsman’s gaze, and the man’s eyes dropped as he nodded in acknowledgement and turned to walk down the hall. 

Keith would need to attend to his own duties today, but he resolved to check in with the guard if no one reported back. 

If the guard reported that Shiro was not in the castle, then Keith had limited options. Oddly enough, even as the prince, he was the highest-trained person available to go after Shiro. Not that Keith would entrust anyone else with this. He knew Shiro better than anyone, could more easily deduce where Shiro went and why. Plus, he had tracking skills from years of hunting trips with the knights. 

It had to be him. 

He wondered if his parents would try to interfere with his decision. 

At the least, Krolia would probably be impressed with his restraint. Keith was waiting before springing into action, this time. If it were up to him, if he had no kingdom relying on him, Keith would already be gone. Instead, he was waiting for confirmation that Shiro was actually missing, that Keith had not leapt to conclusions. 

Surely she would also agree that she and Heath could easily cover his duties for a time. They had approval over most of his decisions, anyway - Keith’s involvement was still mostly instructive, as well as for the sake of appearances.

Keith set about the rest of his day, already planning what items he would pack and which route he would take. 

If Shiro was gone, then Keith would be the one to bring him back. There was no other way. 

 

***

_Shiro_

The Dark Forest was just like he remembered, even at night. 

It might be even more awe-inducing this time, actually. 

Without even thinking about it, Shiro had traveled the same route he and Keith had as kids. 

That trip was one of the more idiotic mistakes Shiro had made in his life. The age difference between him and Keith hardly mattered now, but when they were younger, it should have been enough to act more responsibly. He should have talked Keith out of going to the forest in the first place. Instead, he had been blinded by his own thirst for adventure. 

He wouldn’t make the mistake of jeopardizing Keith’s safety again. Keith did that often enough on his own. 

This time, he had more reasons for continuing, too. 

The Scourge, for one. It was an illness worse than anything Shiro had ever seen. Growing up with a healer for a father, Shiro had borne witness to ailments of all kinds. He had helped patients on their deathbeds, had treated people with everything from a simple cold to broken bones and lacerations. 

That all seemed mundane in comparison to the Scourge. It didn’t respond to any of their treatments. Scourge patients seemed to either recover on their own or die painfully. Most died. 

Shiro had seen enough death in his life. 

So when a man had come into court that day claiming to know of a cure, Shiro couldn’t help but listen, even though he’d figured the man was making things up. 

He wasn’t even supposed to be in court that day. He’d been running behind on his rounds, delivering tonics and checking on patients in the castle. One of his patients was on the city council. He should have waited until after court was out to make the delivery, but the man was already overdue for his dose. 

Out of the corner of his eye on the way in, he had spotted Keith in conference with a different council member. Shiro was close enough to overhear the two planning a new medical tent for Scourge victims in the lower part of the city, which he remembered thinking was a great idea. More expensive, but they were running short on beds in the current medical tent. Plus, a lot of the patients complained about the uphill trek, since the tent was stationed just outside the castle itself. 

Shiro had done his best not to disturb, waiting until a break in petitioners to quietly slip his patient the tonic. 

Then the man had come in. 

Shiro felt a shiver run down his spine thinking about it, only partially because of the chill in the forest. It wasn’t so much what the man had said. A lot of what he said sounded like a variation of other mythical tales of the Dark Forest. 

For instance, he spoke of a power that when wielded, could right any ailment. A power guarded by wise and ancient druids deep in the Dark Forest itself. He implied that the power could cure the Scourge itself. 

It was nothing Shiro hadn’t heard before, and yet, somehow, it had grabbed Shiro’s attention. It was something in the way the man talked, the words he used. They were shaking something loose in Shiro’s mind. 

Krolia had asked what the man knew of a cure, where it was, how to get to it. She was entirely reasonable, and the man’s story had quickly fallen apart. 

Shiro was aware of how the man came across. He was a madman. But perhaps he was a madman for a reason. Maybe he had seen things that had changed his countenance. Maybe he seemed unreliable not because he was making things up, but because he had experienced something unfathomable. 

At first, he’d been merely curious, trying to read between the lines in the man’s story. Then, something had changed. In the middle of his rant, the man’s eyes had snapped directly to Shiro’s. 

It had been like a bolt of electricity shooting down Shiro’s spine. Shiro had been unable to blink, wanting to run and yet feeling rooted to the spot. He recognized, in some sense, that the man was shouting, screaming, as if seeing Shiro had made him go mad. He was foaming at the mouth, the whites of his eyes flaring. He stared at Shiro as he was being dragged from the hall, and he mouthed the words, “You. You have to go. Find the cure. Find the cure.” - words that he was probably screaming, but it was like they were embedded into Shiro’s skull. 

Then the man had been dragged from sight, and everything else had come rushing back in - the sound of scuffling, the murmur of voices. Shiro looked around to see that he had backed up almost to the wall. 

Hands shaking, he had rushed from the hall and forced himself to deliver the remainder of the tonics in his bag. Then, hardly realizing what he was doing, he’d gone back to his room, packed, and hidden out in an empty corridor until nightfall. 

Once evening fell and the guard rotated shifts at the gate, Shiro had pulled his traveling cloak low over his face and left the castle. 

The Dark Forest was legendary, even outside Marmora. Shiro had traveled all over with his family, so he had caught tales of all kinds. There were supposedly monsters the size of houses. Giant snakes and lizards and rats and insects. The woods themselves were supposedly alive, changing shape and rearranging to confuse travelers. Then there were the humanoids, the creatures that weren’t quite people. They were too fast, too strong, too ethereal. That was as far as the similarities went. From there the tales ranged from tiny fairies that would whisper in your ear when you were sleeping and lure you to their nets, all the way to giants that thundered through the wood swinging uprooted trees. 

Shiro had been afraid of all sorts of noises as a kid thanks to those stories, huddled around a campfire hoping it would ward off the wolves and other creatures he was sure were lurking in the darkness. 

For most of his life, those dangers had gone unrealized. 

He knew, therefore, that a lot of those stories were probably made up, or at the very least exaggerated. 

There was other evidence, though. No one who’d ventured into the woods for more than a handful of days returned unscathed. Once, Shiro had treated a patient at the forest’s edge who claimed to have been bitten by a spider the size of a toddler. It was hard to tell with all the bleeding, but the man did have toxic poisoning and at least one defined puncture wound in his calf the size of a wooden stake. 

Then there were Shiro’s own memories. He had memories not of the forest, but something else. Something too frightening, too powerful, to be real. 

Those were memories he didn’t revisit often. 

The tales of the forest could potentially be based in reality. Nothing the man said in court was new, except for the specific tie to the Scourge. Tales of magic and druids dated back hundreds of years. 

Some people might say Shiro was as mad as that man in court. Shiro felt like he had made the right decision, though. He felt like he was thinking clearly for the first time in ages, like he could finally breathe, out here. 

If there was a chance of a cure for the Scourge, Shiro had to at least try. 

He reached the edge of the forest and pushed through a less dense patch of underbrush to reach the clearing he knew would be waiting. 

The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting dark shadows all around him. Just ahead was the clearing. He navigated low-lying limbs, his feet crunching through fallen leaves and twigs. 

There. 

It was the same. Hardly anything had changed. Shiro crossed the clearing, found the stream, and set up camp. 

He was glad he had made it out of the castle, out of the walled city altogether, without notice. There had still been plenty of people wandering around the city that evening, but at least the dim lighting shaded his face. His arm was conspicuous, so he had stuffed his sleeve with cloth and fastened the cuff to the inside of a pocket. His bow, too, was conspicuous to those who knew him, so he had removed the attachments that allowed him to shoot one-handed, carrying them separately so it just looked like an ordinary bow. 

One woman had almost recognized him - luckily, a clatter from a nearby alley had distracted her, and Shiro had tugged his hood lower and ghosted down the next alley. 

The city of Marmora was stunning, once he had gotten through the gates to the city and looked back. He made the trip often enough, but the view always took his breath away. Tall spires adorned the outer walls of the city, and the castle was visible at the top of the small hill, alight with flames and almost glowing before the backdrop of stars. The streets, too, were lit with lanterns, and Shiro could make out the towering buildings where supplies and grain were stored. The white caps of the Snowy Peaks in the background shone in the moonlight. 

From here he could even make out the tower he and Keith enjoyed so much with its views over the ocean. 

He had paused at the sight, wondering if he would ever see that tower again. 

If he came back, he would probably lose his position in the castle. He might never stand up there overlooking the moonlit ocean, learning the names of stars and constellations from Keith, names Keith had learned from his father. 

He should have been feeling guilt at that point. He should have seen the tower, wondered if Keith was up there, and turned around and gone back inside. It was a good life he was leaving behind. The best home he had ever known. 

Maybe he would see it again one day. 

This could prove to be a dangerous journey. It was probably a pointless one. Somehow, though, after everything he had been through, everything he had seen, he felt like this was inevitable. When that man’s eyes had met his in court, Shiro had felt the pull of the forest, something he had felt since he first arrived in Marmora. Now he had a reason to go - the cure. The potential cure. 

He’d turned away from the tower and begun the trek to the forest’s edge. Winding through farmlands and around a couple of smaller villages had taken several hours so that now, setting up camp, he knew that he would soon be awoken by the sunrise. 

He looked around one last time before settling in. He was glad he had packed his scrolls and ink. He would need to take careful notes so as not to get lost, but he would also take a moment to draw, partly to capture the aesthetics and partly for practical purposes. 

He would draw plants, for one. At the last minute, Shiro had thought to pack some of the leather pouches Colleen used to gather plants. Once he gathered them, he would need to draw the plants’ seeds and flowers to make sure they could be identified at a later date. 

He was here to find a cure that probably didn’t exist. It was such a long shot that at least, he figured, he could collect some plants while he was at it. Maybe the Dark Forest held some undiscovered medicinal plant that would help, if the search for an actual cure proved fruitless. 

Drawing the details, too, might help keep him sane. Shiro knew the forest claimed minds as often as it claimed lives. The stories might have some truth to them - perhaps some group of people lived in the woods and drove out visitors with tricks and intimidation tactics - but there were also plenty of other, very real dangers. He could run out of food or water. He could get lost. He could run into some meat-eating creature that might might find him easy prey, since he was alone. 

These woods were largely undocumented, apart from the mythical tales. He had no idea what he would find. At least the explorer in him was excited about writing and drawing everything he found. 

Out here, he would need to forget about Marmora, about the life he led. If he was successful, then he would rely on his maps and drawings to get home. He might even bring home a cure to the Scourge. Then if he lost his job and was thrown from the castle, he would at least have the ability to help people. To make a difference. 

His whole life in the castle felt like a dream, especially from out here. Out here felt like home. The castle was another life, something he only had for a while. It always felt too good to be true. Here, he would prove his worth. This journey, finding a cure, would make up for everything that had been handed to him without cause. 

Shiro felt the most guilt about not telling Samuel his whereabouts. He had yet to miss a day of work unless the head healer himself had insisted Shiro take the day off. 

Shiro had thought he wouldn’t do anything to risk his position in the castle. Having friends there, having the Holts and Keith, and even Keith’s family, was more than anything he could have dared hope for after his mother had died. His whole family had been gone. He’d been alone in a new city, and then Keith, a boy who hardly knew him, a prince nonetheless, had stepped in and secured Shiro his position as an assistant in the healer’s office, knowing Shiro’s father had once been a healer. 

Shiro still remembered that day. The day of his mother’s memorial, the stir it had caused when Keith showed up, the crown prince of the kingdom, and stood at Shiro’s side. The city’s overseer of childcare had already been knocking on his door asking him whether he had relatives in the city, explaining that they would need to discuss his options as an underage citizen of Marmora. Then, shortly after the memorial, Keith had sent guards with the message that Shiro had been accepted as a court healer, that he would have a room at the castle and a temporary guardianship arranged with the Holts, to be transitioned into an apprenticeship when the time came. All of a sudden he had moved from a tiny shack on the outskirts of the city to a private room in the castle with the promise of gainful employment. Only a fool would have turned down the opportunity. 

Shiro would like to think that his own talent spoke for itself eventually. Samuel had seemed pleasantly surprised by Shiro’s knowledge and ability. Despite Shiro’s protests that the official apprenticeship wasn’t necessary, that Shiro was happy to continue in his role as assistant, Samuel had insisted, saying that he could easily see Shiro taking his place one day. Matthew and Kathryn, the only other assistants in the office and Samuel’s children, were both uninterested. Matthew was training with the knights, and Kathryn preferred her experiments. Shiro had been determined to earn that post, if and when the time came. It was a better opportunity than anyone in his position should rightfully have. 

Now he was jeopardizing everything. He’d abandoned his post, abandoned his patients, abandoned his duties, and he’d told no one. He’d left them unprepared and shorthanded. The thought of the Holts needing to cover for him, of his patients wondering where he went, made stomach tighten. 

They would have never understood why he left. If Samuel and Kathryn and Matthew caught wind of it, there was a chance that they might have been cautiously supportive, but they would have also done their best to talk him out of it. If Colleen were in town, she would definitely have succeeded in talking him out of it. She was almost as protective of Shiro as she was her own children. 

So he had left without telling them. 

More importantly, he had made sure no one affiliated with the castle saw him. If anyone reported back to Keith, then all bets were off. Out of all of them, Keith was the only one who might understand. If he didn’t, then he would have at least accept Shiro’s decision. Then he would insist on sending Shiro with supplies that Marmora couldn’t afford to use and backup, which would weaken the castle’s defenses. 

He would insist, and Shiro would be unable to stop him. Keith was the prince, after all. 

No, this was the only way. Going after this supposed cure, and in secret, would keep anyone from following him. When Keith did notice, he would have no idea where Shiro had gone. He would be unable to send backup. 

Keith. Keith’s existence in general was another reason Shiro felt the need to find his place outside the castle, outside the life Keith had given him. Shiro had been feeling anxious for a while now - since they brought him into the castle, really. But he had overheard a conversation between the queen and king that made his position even more tenuous. 

He’d been on his way to meet Keith for training early one morning when he’d heard his name from a nearby sitting room. It was Krolia’s voice. 

“What do you mean, what are we going to do about Shiro, my love?” 

“I mean to say, I fear that if we are not careful,” Heath had replied, “that young man might be working his way into this family soon enough.” 

Shiro had bitten his tongue to keep himself from making any noise in reaction. 

That was the moment he knew he had been found out. 

Keith had been his best friend for so long, but as they grew and he saw the person Keith was becoming, the ruler he would be one day, Shiro had noticed a change in his own feelings. He no longer wanted to be Keith’s friend - he wanted to be around Keith for the rest of their lives. He wanted to challenge him, stand at his side, be his rock and watch him grow and succeed. 

He wanted so much more than he deserved. 

He did his best to hide it, wanting everything and taking nothing. He thought he was successful in hiding his feelings. But somehow, they knew. 

His feet had been rooted to the spot. He knew he should move away, stop listening, but he couldn’t. 

Krolia had laughed. “I hardly think Shiro is capable of such machinations,” she had said. 

“He may not be doing anything intentionally, but surely you see the same things I do,” Heath had replied, and Krolia had hummed in thought. 

“Yes, I know what you mean. And I have other things to worry about, for now. If and when anything happens, we will deal with it then.” 

Shiro had turned and walked as quietly as he could down the hall, away from their voices. 

_Deal with it._ They knew he had feelings for their son, completely inappropriate feelings that could never come to fruition because of the difference in their circumstances, and they had plans to deal with it - probably to separate him from Keith if he ever got in the way. 

Maybe it was dramatic, but Shiro had felt like the rug was pulled out from under him again. Suddenly, he was on shaky ground. Keith’s family had so much power in the kingdom. The rational voice in his head told him that the Holts would protest if Shiro was forced out of the castle. They had taken him in, treating him like another member of their tightly-knit family. It was bound to happen with how closely they worked together. 

Shiro had grown complacent in that comfort. He had forgotten how quickly things could change. 

Keith had found him later that evening on one of the towers overlooking the city. 

“You missed training today,” Keith had said, sitting next to Shiro. 

“Yeah, sorry, I…got caught up in something,” he had replied, unsure of what to say, finding it difficult to even look at Keith and yet wanting him to stay close. 

For a moment, Keith had scrutinized him in that unnerving way - that way that made Shiro feel raw, exposed, like Keith could see into his soul - before Keith had seemed to accept Shiro’s lie and simply sat beside him. 

It was almost sunset, and they had sat quietly together and watched the sky change colors. 

This was the same tower - the one overlooking the cliffs and the ocean, in the distance - that Keith had brought Shiro to the night after Shiro’s mother had finally succumbed to her illness, a rattling cough that had never gone away. Keith’s old stargazing tower, he had said. They’d brought ornate royal blankets and spent the night up there, Keith telling Shiro the names of all the constellations they could see and holding Shiro’s hand when he fell silent. 

This most recent time on the tower, after missing their sparring session, after Krolia and Heath’s conversation, Keith had been much the same in the face of Shiro’s quiet turmoil. It wasn’t the first time since his mother had died that the two of them had spent time on the tower. 

Keith somehow always knew exactly what Shiro would need. Not to be alone, but sometimes to just sit and not talk about it yet, either. It was usually enough, but this time it made matters worse. He would lose this one day. Probably one day soon. 

Before Shiro’s mother had died, she had told him, _Stay close to that Keith. He’ll look after you for me, I can tell._

He had told her he didn’t need anyone looking after him, much less a prince who had much more important things to do with his time, but that was a lie. He sometimes felt like his whole world revolved around Keith, just like Keith had once told him the moon circled the Earth, unable to escape its pull. 

Krolia and Heath were right to be worried. He was no match for Keith. Keith deserved someone better. Someone more suited than Shiro to marrying into a royal family. It wasn’t uncommon for people of the same gender to marry in Marmora. It was even regarded positively in Marmoran society - same-gender couples were encouraged to take in orphans and children whose parents were unable to care for them. An orphan in his own right, that was something Shiro had always admired about Marmoran society. 

For someone like the crown prince, though, marrying a man would be unheard of. The crown prince needed a blood heir. Keith was unlikely to return his interest, and even if he did, he could never marry someone like Shiro. Shiro had known that, and he had willfully ignored that fact, hoping that in suppressing his feelings he would be able to stay. 

Then, they had noticed. 

Shiro figured it was only a matter of time before he was forced to leave Marmora. Perhaps one day he would have become Samuel’s successor, and he could have lived with Keith marrying someone else if it meant he got to stay. But now he wondered if the king and queen worried that Shiro would try to prevent a proper match. 

The conversation had put Shiro’s feelings front and center in his mind. He had been ignoring how he felt about Keith, not realizing that it was slowly tearing him apart. 

Wanting something he couldn’t have would only end poorly. 

Keith was so real, so accessible, so open, that it was easy for Shiro to forget his rank. Shiro was taking advantage of Keith’s friendly devotion. Seeing him in court was always a shock, seeing his casual demeanor shift, seeing the air of authority pull around him. 

If seeing that ever failed to remind Shiro of his place, then overhearing the conversation between Keith’s parents had certainly done the trick. 

Shiro dreaded the idea of being on their bad side. Krolia was the Queen of a powerful and prosperous kingdom, one that most people on the other side of the mountains feared. The Marmorans were known for their military ships and their impossibly well-defended location. They were housed between mountains and the Dark Forest on three sides, and on the fourth side were steep, rocky cliffs overlooking a raging sea that only Marmoran ships could reliably navigate. The only realistic way in or out for most people was through the mountains. People assumed Marmorans were fierce, dangerous, insular. 

They were right. Krolia was even more fearsome than people proclaimed. And Keith was close behind her, quickly becoming an exacting and just ruler. 

Shiro had no place there. To think otherwise would be foolish. To be lulled into their dinners and trainings and arguments, to be treated as an insider, would only make leaving one day harder. 

Perhaps this journey to the Dark Forest was a convenient excuse to run away before he was reminded of the divide between him and Keith. 

It felt like more than that, though. He felt grateful that he had overheard the conversation between Krolia and Heath. It made severing his connection with Marmora easier. 

This was something he felt like he needed to do. If there was a cure, if there were answers out there, he needed to know. And he needed to do it on his own. 

He lay back on the grass, watching the branches swaying in the trees above while he drifted off to sleep. 

 

***

_Keith_

His parents were less surprised than he thought they would be. 

His father found out first, walking into Keith’s quarters after dinner while he was packing. 

Keith was gathering everything he would need for the trip - he already had his blade from the training room, and he had taken a fire striker, water totes, and food from the storage rooms. He had changed into his lightweight travel armor and begun loading up his bag, grabbing some extra quills and inkwells on impulse, in case Shiro’s ran out. Then the door to his rooms opened. 

“Impromptu travels, my son?” Heath asked, sitting on the edge of Keith’s bed next to the travel bag. 

Keith braced himself. He hoped his mother and father would understand and not forbid him leaving. He planned to make the trip short, of course, but he could only rely on his tracking skills to find where Shiro had gone, and he was already behind by almost a full day. It could take a while to catch up to Shiro, and even then, he was unsure of his ability to convince his friend to return. This could take a while. 

“Father, I - ” 

Heath raised a hand to halt his speech. “No need to explain. Healer Holt spoke with me earlier. He mentioned that Shiro was gone, and it wasn’t hard to figure out why. I’m only surprised it’s taken you this long to go after him.” 

Keith was taken aback. “You were in court yesterday? You saw…”

“That old man your mother had removed from court? Yes, I saw him. And like you, I also saw Shiro turn white as linen and run out of the hall. Now he’s missing work, and I know you sent the guard looking for him. You forget they report to me first,” he said with a wry smile. “So Shiro’s gone into the forest.” 

Keith sighed. “Then you know I must go after him.” 

Heath frowned, tilting his head to the side. “I understand. Wouldn’t say I’m thrilled, mind you. But I do understand.” He sighed. “Given time, you know, you’d have a whole cohort of knights and the Holts and probably most of the kitchen staff searching with you, but…” 

“But they are all otherwise occupied, what with the threat on the western border and the Scourge, plus all the demands for food and supplies.” 

“Yes. That. Samuel sends his well wishes. Kathryn said something like, ‘Tell Keith to bring that idiot home.’” Keith huffed a laugh. That sounded like her. 

Heath paused, looking at Keith’s supplies strewn about the room, at the bag he was packing. “I don’t suppose there’s anything I can do to talk you into sending…” 

“Who? Who could I send, much less trust with this?” 

“Well,” Heath huffed, shaking his head and rising. “Had to ask, you know. Bring ‘im home safe, okay, kid? And...hang on.” 

Keith finished packing as his father left the room, returning a moment later with a tome and a birdcage. 

“Take Corvus with you, at least,” he said, holding up the royal family’s personal messenger crow. 

Corvus the family crow was named after the Corvus constellation, one Keith had learned when he was younger. Hearing the name now brought back memories of trips to the countryside stargazing with his father. When just the two of them went, they would bring Corvus along to send messages home to Krolia. No matter how far they went, Corvus always found his way back to the castle. 

Perhaps taking the crow would be a good idea. He took the cage, only wishing it were a little lighter in weight. 

“Send for help if you need anything,” Heath continued. “Perhaps the knights will return soon. And let us know you’re alright. Take this, as well.” He held out the tome. “It just might come in handy, where you’re going.” 

Keith took the heavy book, and it was…Keith recognized it from his childhood. 

“Fairy tales?” Keith asked, wondering how he would carry such a large and heavy tome, not to mention why. 

“You know, my people used to say these stories were based on real accounts.” He laughed at whatever expression Keith had on his face - probably one of incredulity. Keith had enjoyed the tales as a child, but they were just that - tales. Fictional. The forest held its dangers, but Keith saw no need to prepare for the impossible. 

“Just...humor me, alright, kid?” 

Keith rolled his eyes but he took the tome, stashing it in his bag. He attached Corvus’s cage to a strap and shouldered the whole pack, now much heavier now than he had planned. The crow was probably a good idea, he reminded himself. The book, on the other hand… It would be entertainment, at the least. Perhaps he could use it as kindling. 

Keith faced his father, who stepped closer and wrapped Keith in his arms. Despite a late growth spurt, he was still shorter than both of his parents, and his face was pressed uncomfortably into Heath’s shoulder. 

He wondered if he would ever be as tall as the two of them. He had more of his mother’s features, more of her personality, but he held out hope that he might inherit his father’s height. 

Heath released him and held him by the shoulders. “I never do know what to do with the two of you,” he said, his eyes glistening. Keith knew he was referring to Krolia and him. 

It was a common refrain. His father was always the one chasing after them, as the stories went. Keith and Krolia moved through the world like a storm, Heath would say, and it was his job to keep up, watch their backs, keep them safe. 

“Come home as soon as you find him. And make sure you bring food. Did you bring food? I can get the cooks to…”

“I packed food. And water, and a canvas for shelter, and everything else Krolia makes us pack when we travel.” 

Heath swallowed and nodded, patting Keith on the shoulder and stepping away. “You’d better go tell her, then.” 

“I will,” Keith said, giving his dad one last quick embrace before adjusting his pack and leaving the room. He looked back when he got to the door. “See you soon.” 

With one last nod at his father that he hoped would be reassuring, he made his way down the corridor to the Great Hall, where Krolia was still entertaining the leaders of an ally settlement the other side of the mountains. They had been attacked by presumably the same army that was attempting to make their way through the mountain pass. Keith was supposed to be with them, but he had ducked out after the dinner service. 

Right now, they were probably still talking strategy. A lack of attacks in the past few moons might indicate an upcoming ambush, or it could mean the attackers had retreated. 

Keith hesitated before entering the hall, but Krolia caught his eye. Her sharp gaze catalogued Keith’s traveling cloak and his packed bag before she returned her attention to the visitor, smiling and saying something with a gesture toward Keith. Keith turned and walked down the hall a little to wait for her. 

“You are leaving,” she said, frowning as she followed him into the hall. “Is this to do with Shiro going missing today? You also think he has gone to the forest?” 

Keith nodded. Heath must have filled her in. 

Krolia crossed her arms, and her brow pinched in thought. She seemed to retreat inward for a moment, probably thinking through all the arguments against him going. Then, “Very well, I suppose I cannot stop you.” 

Keith’s eyebrow raised. “You could,” he said. “You are the Queen.” 

“And we both know that even under surveillance you would just wait until the guard changed shifts and sneak off anyway.” 

Keith said nothing, but she seemed to know what his reply would be. Like Heath, apparently, she knew this trip would be too important to Keith for them to have any chance of changing his mind. 

She paused in thought again and looked pained. “I cannot send anyone to help you,” she said. “Not yet, anyway.” 

Keith nodded. “Dad gave me Corvus,” he said, pointing over his shoulder at the crow, who squawked loudly in the quiet hallway. “We can use him to send a message if we need help,” he said. 

Krolia sighed. “That will have to do.” 

She strode forward and gave him a nearly identical embrace to the one he’d gotten from his father. “Remember,” she said, hugging him a little tighter, “remember everything I have taught you. Be wise and choose your battles.” 

“I will return soon enough,” Keith said, pulling away. The words were similar to the words he had spoken to his father only moments before, but this time, he felt like he was reassuring himself rather than her. He bit his lip to keep from saying anything more. Krolia smiled at him and touched his cheek, crossing her arms as he turned to go. 

Keith blinked back a surprising sting of tears on the way to the gates and refused to look back. Knowing he would be on his own, without his mother, without the knights - a younger version of himself would be delighted. But now, he knew the stakes. 

His kingdom was counting on him to come home in one piece. His duties would be covered by his parents for now, and thank goodness they had supported his decision to go. If the had refused, he would have still left, but he would have felt even more guilt about the decision. 

He needed to find a way home. If he took too long to find Shiro, all hope could be lost. 

This would be a dangerous journey, even if he returned directly with Shiro. 

Something told him this would not be so easy.


	2. Part 2: Encounters

Part 2: Encounters  


_No matter what we do, I’ll be there with you_

\- [YtG](https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=1&v=oPPXn1ElqRY)

***

_Keith_

It took him two days to find Shiro. 

The forest was closer and less intimidating than he remembered. In the dark, it looked similar to the forests Keith was used to up in the mountains. 

He traveled what he hoped was the same route he and Shiro had traveled as kids. It was his best lead. He and Shiro had pored over maps for days, planning which way they would go, how long they would be gone, where they would find water and shelter. All that careful planning had gone right out the window once they made it outside the city walls. Shiro had taken lead and pushed them in an entirely different direction, weaving around farms and homesteads that dotted the countryside. Once they were in the forest, there was even a clearing they had not seen on rudimentary maps they had stolen from Heath’s library. The clearing had acted like an entryway, welcoming them into the forest. Keith had brought his favorite sword back then to cut through the underbrush only to find they had no need for it. The forest had practically opened up before them. 

This seemed like the same route, like no time had passed since he was here last. He covered ground as quickly as he could in the moonlight. 

He was taking a lot of risks coming after Shiro like this. Perhaps he was wrong after all and Shiro had just taken an emergency call to one of the villages. It was unlikely that Samuel knew nothing, but it was possible. 

Even if Shiro decided to go to the forest, maybe he had chosen a different path. Maybe he had counted on Keith following him and gone a different direction to throw him off. 

Keith reached the clearing he remembered by the middle of the night. It was too dark to make out any tracks, so any more travel would have to wait until the light of day. 

He found a convenient, low-hanging branch and built his makeshift shelter, gathering logs to make a fire. Once the blaze was strong enough to radiate heat for a few hours, he slept. 

The next morning, Keith was finally able to look around and take in the forest. 

It was imposing. Keith felt a thrill of excitement at seeing many of the same sights he remembered from his childhood. Small woodland creatures scuttered about in the underbrush, rustling leaves and grasses. The trees themselves creaked and groaned with the breeze. The branch Keith was under provided the perfect amount of shade. It was almost tempting to stay, but Keith was up and moving as soon as he had the thought. There was no time to linger. 

He searched around in the clearing, looking for clues that Shiro had passed through. There were tracks, but they looked to be made by deer. So far, no sign of Shiro. 

There was a stream nearby, from the sound of it. Keith decided to find it and fill up his water tote and try expanding his search area. He might have to travel up and down the forest’s edge to find where Shiro had crossed through. 

He filled up his water tote and had turned to leave when something caught his eye. There, just upstream, he spotted the remains of a campfire and still-fresh indentations in the grass nearby. 

He felt a small thrill at the sight. Either someone else had camped out in the same clearing, or this was Shiro’s campsite. 

Maybe he knew his friend better than he thought. 

Keith loaded up and started his search at the riverside campsite, following a clear trail of crushed leaves, broken stems, and snapped twigs that led away. He was fairly certain that the tracks were Shiro’s, now. The footprints around the campsite were large, and they were more sunken in than Keith’s own, so the person he was following was bigger than Keith and probably carrying a pack or something else that weighed them down. 

Shiro must be fairly confident that no one was after him, Keith thought as he followed the trail. He was making no efforts to cover his tracks. That would make Keith’s job easier. He ducked to examine a broken branch, wincing when Corvus crowed in his ear, apparently displeased with all the bouncing. 

Keith should let him fly. Corvus was well trained. As long as he had nothing tied around his leg, he would keep close to the traveler rather than fly home. 

Keith slid the pack off his shoulder and opened the cage, and Corvus hopped out, testing his wings and cawing at Keith as if reiterating his displeasure at being cooped up for so long. Before he could fly off, Keith pulled out a strip of cured meat from his bag and held it out, an incentive for the crow to follow him for however many days this would take. _Stick with me, I have the food_ , he thought, grabbing another piece for himself. _For now, anyway_. He had maybe seven days of food for himself, and he was counting on scavenging and hunting for the rest. He kept an eye out for berries and nuts for his other meals. 

As he walked, Keith spared a moment to contemplate his friend’s choice. This kind of recklessness was uncharacteristic of Shiro. Shiro had abandoned the city in a time of great need. Healers were more important than ever, even if they were having a hard time coming up with a remedy for the Scourge. 

Not that Keith had room to talk, having abandoned his own duties as well. 

Then again, he thought, this was just like Shiro. He would be the person who sacrificed his own well-being for the sake of others. If he truly believed, on some level, that the cure might be out here, then Shiro would have felt compelled to be the one to make the search. 

He must have taken that crazy man’s words to heart, then. Keith had almost immediately dismissed the man in court that day, turning back to talk to councilwoman Baker. Anyone who believed in the supernatural had questionable logic, in Keith’s book. Shiro was different, though. He was more optimistic. He believed in people, believed in the power of their ideas and experiences. Keith might not understand that, but he certainly admired it. Until Shiro decided to waltz off into the Dark Forest on his own, that is. 

If Shiro truly did believe that man’s story, then maybe he knew something Keith did not. 

Or maybe he was just desperate to find a cure. There were many in the kingdom at wit’s end, and Shiro was particularly sensitive to their suffering, for how little he let on that it bothered him. 

If Shiro was here for the first reason, and he did have reason to believe there might be a cure, then Keith wished Shiro would have come to him. A mission that important could spare supplies, and maybe they could have called back a small group of the knights to make the journey in Shiro’s stead, depending on the state of the conflict at the border. 

If it was the latter, and Shiro had no idea where he was going or what he would find, then he would need all the help he could get. 

Keith regretted that he had nothing else to offer but himself, in this circumstance. With all the resources at his disposal, he could only rush off in the night with what he could carry to find his friend and bring him home. 

He paused, checking the trail again, and wondered how he should act when he found Shiro. With how quickly he was moving along the trail, it was only a matter of time. Shiro clearly felt his decision to be justified, considering that had carefully packed all his things and left without warning. That meant that Keith might not be able to convince Shiro to return to Marmora. And if Shiro did agree to return, it might be for Keith’s own safety as the crown prince, like the last time they had come out here. Then he might still have his reasons, and he might disappear all over again, and he would take better care to cover his tracks. 

That meant Keith had to be careful about how he approached Shiro. His top priority had to be keeping his friend safe, and that would have to mean letting Shiro make the decision on his own. Keith could only follow. 

His mind made up, Keith glanced up at a nearby tree to make sure Corvus was still keeping up and continued on. The sun was still behind him, now slightly to his left as the afternoon crept in. That meant Keith had been traveling in more or less a straight line toward the northeast all day. 

If Shiro was traveling in a straight line, that would certainly make things easier. Keith took a risk and stuck to what looked like a path, stopping to check the tracks less often, and by mid-afternoon he had reached another campsite. 

Shiro must be moving slowly, or, judging by the sweat dripping down Keith’s neck, he had been walking rather quickly, especially for someone carrying a bag with a gilded bird cage and a weighty tome. 

If he kept up this pace, though, he might just catch up with Shiro the next day. 

And if he failed - if he lost the trail - he would come back to this campsite and start over. This was his second checkpoint. 

Whenever Keith paused to confirm a track, he took notice of the forest around him. It was almost eerie. Apart from Corvus, the sound of birds and insects seemed to have ceased. Even the wind had stilled. The only sound Keith could make out was the babbling creek he had passed a couple hundred steps back. 

If he was prone to metaphor, he would say the forest was holding its breath, waiting for something. 

Keith pushed the uneasy feeling aside and continued on, making camp when it became too dark to see the trail. 

Just as he anticipated, Keith caught up with his friend the very next day. 

***

_Shiro_

Shiro knew he was probably moving too slowly to make this journey as efficient as he’d hoped. He was pausing too frequently to gather food, collect plants, and document the wilderness. 

He had just spotted and dug up a new plant, one unlike any he had seen Colleen and Kathryn work with before, and he was carrying it around looking for a place to sit. It was nearly midday, and he was ready for a break. 

He stopped at the next big boulder he found. It was in the sun, and it looked like the perfect place to rest. 

His pack was heavy when he pushed it up on the rock next to the plant he’d dug up. He realized with a grunt of effort that it weighed even more than when he left Marmora, what with all the plant specimens and food items he’d collected. 

He could do something about the food, he thought, hearing his stomach grumble as he levered himself onto the rock. 

He settled in and pulled out his parchment and quills, deciding to first document the [plant](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/de/24/27/de2427f6293f5bf5ee7e15f1fec2c9d0--plant-identification-botanical-prints.jpg) he had gathered before it wilted any further. It was a shade plant, growing in the underbrush, with fern-like leaves and small white flowers. 

Shiro cursed as his quill slipped from his fingers, bounced once on the rock beside him, and rolled out of sight. 

Getting around with one hand was something he had been used to for more than a decade now, but it was still frustrating at times. He had grown accustomed to carrying at least a small pack across his body to hold things so that if he tripped, he wasn’t carrying tonics or delicate parchments with the only hand he could use to catch himself. He had that pack now, as well as his overnight bag. 

Unfortunately, they didn’t help when he was trying to balance multiple things at once. He set aside his parchment and the thin wooden slate he had brought as a makeshift desk, one he used to take notes on patient calls, then braced himself and jumped down from the rock. 

At least he had his balance and footing down. That had been tricky, at first. He supposed he owed his current athleticism to the daily training sessions with Keith. Keith did two trainings every day - one in the morning with Shiro alone, and one with the knights most afternoons, if the knights were in the city. He’d pushed Shiro’s limits even years ago, when Keith had been so small by comparison. 

Shiro was still taller and broader than Keith, to be fair. Keith nonetheless continued to win most of their fights. 

He grabbed the quill, sliding it into a pocket so he could make his way back up to the top of the rock. Then he froze. There was something moving in the trees behind him. 

There had been no large animals in the forest so far, if he didn’t count the deer studying his face when he awoke that first morning. 

Maybe he’d just gotten lucky so far. He moved slowly, turning toward the noise. 

“Hey, old man,” came a voice as he turned around and saw… 

Keith? But how… 

Keith was propped against the base of a tree, looking like he’d been waiting for Shiro to notice him. His arms were crossed, his head cocked to the side, and he had a wry grin on his face. 

He was breathtaking. 

He was here. Why, how…? 

“Keith?” he heard himself say - stutter, really. He winced. “What are you…how are you…”

Keith smiled as if he was amused at Shiro’s bewilderment. Shiro tried to shake off the surprise so he could say something intelligible. 

“What are you doing here?” he managed to ask, still frozen in place. 

Keith’s eyebrows raised, as if the answer to that question was too obvious to even answer. “I followed you,” he said, shrugging. 

_No,_ Shiro thought. This was all wrong. Keith couldn’t be here. Keith wasn’t supposed to know where he was, wasn’t supposed to find out…wasn’t supposed to be here, in the forest, it was too dangerous… 

“You have to go back,” he said, and Keith frowned for the first time. 

“No,” he said, as if it were that easy. “Not without you.” 

Shiro felt short of breath. This was…he hadn’t planned for this. He hooked his thumb in the strap of his shoulder pack, turning away from Keith to collect his thoughts. 

Keith was here. He cursed under his breath. Keith, out of everyone, was supposed to stay far away from this. How… 

Keith must have seen him in court, must have seen his reaction to the man talking about a cure to the Scourge. 

Shiro took a deep breath. It was a mistake, but it could still be fixed. 

“Keith,” he said, turning back around. Keith was regarding him with a tightness around his worried eyes. Shiro ignored it. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s too dangerous,” he said and then quickly reframed his argument. Keith wouldn’t be deterred by the danger. “And…and you left too much behind for this. You have to go back.” He felt like a broken record, but that was all he could think. Keith had to go back. 

Keith had grimaced at Shiro’s second argument. It was a low blow - Shiro knew Keith took his duties seriously, that he felt like he wasn’t doing a good enough job to keep up with Krolia. It was a low blow, yes, but it was necessary. 

“The kingdom is relying on you,” he said, reiterating the point. Maybe it would make Keith go back. 

Keith was gritting his teeth now. Good. He was mad. That meant he would… 

“If you wish to return, then I will go with you,” Keith said. “If you plan to continue, then I will follow. My duties are covered for now.” 

There went that argument. Fine. It would delay the inevitable, but he would go back with Keith, wait until he was otherwise occupied, and leave again, making sure Keith was unable to follow. 

Keith wouldn’t have mapped where he’d been, though. He would have relied on his tracking skills and the stars for direction. Shiro doubted he even brought anything to write down where he had been, planning to rely on his memory. What if Keith chased him out here again and had no trail to follow? How long would he look? 

Damn Keith and his stubbornness. 

He had one last thing to try. 

“What if I told you I don’t want you here?” 

“I would send word to Krolia and ask her to send members of the guard to go with you instead. Once they arrived, I would go back and cover their shifts. Either way, I cannot leave you out here alone. That’s the rule, remember? We have each other’s backs.” 

It was an old agreement between them, one they had forged long ago. It always felt like Keith was the one doing the giving, though. He got Shiro the apprenticeship, gave him a home, helped him fight his battles. This would be one more tally to add to Keith’s column, and a pretty big one at that. 

Keith stepped closer, and Shiro knew from the look in his eye that Keith wasn’t backing down. Shiro felt rooted to his spot, helpless. He had assumed that Keith would be concerned at his leaving, but not enough to do all this. He had clearly underestimated Keith yet again. 

“Do you want me to go back, Shiro?” Keith asked, close enough now that Shiro could see the hints of blue and almost purple in his dark eyes. 

Did Shiro want to insist? Did he want to send Keith away? 

If Keith felt that strongly about it, then no. He was dismayed at his own weakness, but he didn’t want to send Keith back. 

Truthfully, he couldn’t think of anyone else he would rather have at his side for this. 

Maybe if he tried harder, he could build a convincing argument. Maybe if he told Keith he was interfering, gave better reasons for Keith to go back, Keith would listen. 

Shiro closed his eyes, unable to stare at Keith any longer. 

“Shiro?” he heard Keith prompt, and Keith sounded a little uneasy now. He felt a hand on his shoulder. “Do you want me to leave?” 

He should. He should feel nothing but guilt for dragging Keith out here, for not realizing Keith would follow him. 

It wasn’t guilt at all, though. He felt relief. 

“No,” he said, clearing his throat. “No. If you mean what you say, then…” He paused, shaking his head. This was madness, and dragging Keith into it…he should at least try to explain. “Keith, I don’t know where I’m going. I don’t know how long this will take. It’s…”

He looked at Keith in time to notice Keith’s eyebrows flicker in surprise. That might convince him to go back, after all. 

“I don’t know…” Shiro tried to continue, but he could see that Keith had understood. Shiro had no plan. He had no end goal. He waited to see how Keith would react. 

“Okay,” Keith said, his eyes dropping to the side as if he was in thought. He was nodding. He squeezed Shiro’s shoulder and let his hand drop. “Okay. We can figure it out together.” 

Shiro squeezed his eyes shut against the wave of emotion he felt at that. Keith was willing to come with him, could tell without Shiro explaining it how important this was, was willing to help him figure it out even though he had nothing to go on. 

This was more than he should ever ask for. This was too much. 

He wanted it anyway. 

Seeming to realize his decision, Keith stepped away, slung his bag up into Shiro’s rock, and said in a wry tone, “Alright, kitchen-hand Shiro, what did you bring me for lunch?” 

***

_Keith_

They had spoken little since Shiro had accepted Keith following him. 

Shiro seemed lost in thought, taking lead and acting, for all intents and purposes, like he knew where he was going. Based on their conversations, though, he seemed to think he had no end goal in mind. It was perplexing. 

They stopped frequently, Shiro taking time to examine leaves of plants and paging through his scrolls. He seemed to be documenting as many plants as he could. When he found a new one, he would sit and draw, then gather the whole plant - root, stem, and leaves - into a pouch before continuing on. 

It made sense, Keith supposed. Colleen had suggested going into these woods to gather plants, and Krolia had denied the request, suggesting Colleen search the highlands first. If they found a Scourge remedy that only grew in the Dark Forest, they would need to send search parties until Colleen could grow the plants at the castle, which could be problematic because of Krolia’s laws forbidding entry to the Dark Forest. 

As a general rule, it was acceptable to remain in the forest for a few days, and only in dire circumstances, but a mission to find medicinal plants could take much longer. 

Krolia had been furious when Keith and Shiro had gone into the forest alone as children. Keith felt a twinge of pride now, knowing that his mother trusted him as much as the knights she had sent into the forest once to search for a missing farmer. She disliked the notion, but she trusted him to handle himself. Otherwise, she would have put up more of a fight at him leaving. 

Keith’s mind wandered as they walked, and he thought back to all the times he had snuck away from the castle on his own when he was younger. 

He had first met Shiro on one of those outings, as a matter of fact. 

He had been young, maybe five or six. Krolia and most of the knights had gone out sailing on one of their biggest ships, and Keith had desperately wanted to go with them. 

Looking back now, he realized they had probably been fending off an attack. He was far too young at the time to accompany them, as much as he would have liked to. 

When they left, he had rebelliously taken to slipping through the castle gates early in the morning and not returning until late in the evening. If they were going on adventures, so was he. It had seemed like sound logic at the time. 

His father had not been pleased. 

Keith remembered those ventures fondly, though. There were so many interesting things happening in the city, and it was even better when he wasn’t hounded by the guard. He was always back to the castle before dinner, anyway. 

Sometimes, when people didn’t recognize Keith as the crown prince, he would get drawn into a game of streetball or challenge kids to a duel with wooden spears and daggers. He won every time, able to easily outmaneuver even bigger opponents because of the hours he spent training with Kolivan and the other knights. 

The day he had met Shiro, Keith was walking through the town square with his hood up, pretending he was a wayward criminal looking for a place to hide out. He was wearing robes borrowed from Matthew so he could blend in more. (Well, kind of borrowed. Matthew had not actually known Keith had taken them. Keith planned to return them, though. At some point.) 

He passed a series of shops and was just getting ready to sneak into the big church on the corner to explore secret hiding places from his make-believe pursuers when he heard shouting. 

In the dirt nearby, in the middle of what would be a giant flower bed in the summer, a bunch of kids were pushing someone around. The dust kicked up around them as the kid struggled to stay on his feet. 

Finally, Keith remembered thinking. Finally something exciting was happening. Maybe something a wayward criminal and _vigilante_ could take on. He would save this stranger and be rewarded with more fake gold to hide in the church later. 

He ran toward the fight, ready to jump in. Then he recognized one of the kids doing the shoving. It was someone Keith had run into before - Merek. Merek tended to select a new victim each week and torment them. Most of the other kids were scared of him. 

Keith had taken on this kid before, and he would do so again. 

He walked right up behind the kid and tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Hey, Merek,” he said. “Remember me?” 

The boy turned, a disgusted look on his face. “Oh look, everyone, it’s the runt!” he called to his friends.

“The runt who’s going to take you down,” Keith said, trying to trick Merek into throwing the first punch. That was one of Kolivan’s rules, and Kolivan was the best knight, so Keith always listened to his advice. Never instigate. 

Trying to get the kid to punch him was probably counted as instigating. Keith did it anyway. 

It worked. Keith’s head jerked to the side and a sharp pain blossomed on his left cheek. 

He turned back to Merek, smiling. Merek looked concerned for a moment at Keith’s unexpected reaction, and then he was on the ground. Keith had waited until Merek swung again, using his opponent’s momentum against him and pulling his arm down and to the side, kicking his foot in the opposite direction. Merek went down hard, his head swinging to the side as he hit the ground. Keith was too focused on Merek, though, because he felt his arms being grabbed from behind by one of Merek’s followers. Keith was yanked away from Merek and pushed onto the ground while someone yelled, “Stay outta this, if ya know what’s good for ya!” 

In the tussle, though, Keith’s hood had come down. One of the other kids started yelling, “The prince! It’s the bloody prince!” 

Keith had been revealed. It must have been one of the council kids. Keith didn’t always get recognized, but sometimes the council members would bring their kids to castle gatherings, and his mother always insisted he greet them and show them around the castle. It was one of the most boring things Keith had to do. There was always a knight or a guardsman accompanying them, so he was unable to show them all the really interesting parts of the castle. 

“Run!” someone yelled. 

They scrambled off, one of them getting in an extra kick to the boy on the ground nearby. 

Keith sat up, brushing a few rocks from the palms of his hands and checking for cuts. Then he pulled up his hood and waited to see if anyone else in the plaza had noticed him. Luckily, no one was nearby. 

Keith walked over to the other boy on the ground and offered him a hand up. Then he noticed that the boy’s right arm was missing, his sleeve pinned just above his elbow. Keith quickly switched so he was holding out his left hand instead. 

The boy looked at him with suspicion. “What are you doing?” he asked. 

“Helping you up,” Keith shrugged. 

The boy sat forward and took Keith’s hand. He was bigger than Keith, and they almost fell over when Keith tried to lift him up, but Keith was strong and knew how to keep his balance, and he managed. 

Once the boy had stood up, he winced and curled his arm around his chest. 

“C’mon, I’ll take you to the healer,” Keith said. 

The boy was looking at him again. 

“Samuel’s real nice, I promise,” he said. 

“No,” the boy said. 

“Why not?” Keith had asked. 

“Because I don’t need your pity,” the boy had spat out. “Or your handouts. I’m fine. I can manage on my own.” 

“Oh,” Keith had said. “Okay. Well do you wanna come see the castle?” He remembered thinking that the boy was at least interesting, considering that he had tried to fight Merek. Keith had seen a bruise forming on Merek’s cheek that had to be from a punch, and Keith had never seen anyone else manage a hit on Merek before. Keith wanted to see if this kid was different. He seemed different. “I can show you the training room,” he said, thinking of his favorite room in the castle. “We have the best weapons.” 

The boy had looked surprised, maybe too shocked to understand what he was agreeing to, but he had come with Keith. Keith had been careful to go slow in case the boy really was injured. 

By the end of the day, he knew Shiro’s name. He knew that Shiro was new in town, and he knew that Shiro’s mother was trying to get a job at the town bakery. 

He kept an eye on Shiro that day just in case he needed to run get the healer anyway, but Shiro had seemed okay, after all. They both had bruises in the same spot on their faces, because Merek always punched the same way, but apart from some additional scrapes, Shiro seemed fine. 

Keith had thought that anyone who would try to take on Merek and his crew must be an okay person, so he invited Shiro to come back to the castle and try out the weapons someday. When Shiro hadn’t come back, Keith had gone to the bakery every day until he saw a woman there who looked a little like Shiro, and he had asked her about Shiro. The woman had said Shiro would be coming by after his lessons, so Keith had stayed and waited. It took a few more tries to get Shiro to come to the castle again, but once he did, he talked him into training together and Shiro was the best opponent. He didn’t pull his punches like all the other people Keith trained with. It had almost gotten Shiro thrown from the castle grounds when he had accidentally hit Keith hard enough to throw him to the ground, but Keith had ordered the guard to never lay a hand on his friend. He and Shiro had been training together ever since. 

Even on this trip into the Dark Forest, even as grown up as they were now, Keith and Shiro had fallen back into a routine of sparring every morning before they packed up camp. 

They took it easy, trying to conserve energy for walking, but it was so reassuringly familiar to fall back into a daily training routine. 

Everything seemed to fall into place, really. Shiro took to drawing maps, Keith took to noticing tracks of potential predators, and they found an easy rhythm. Keith relished the surprised gratitude on Shiro’s face when Shiro broke his quill and Keith had one at the ready. 

Keith still wondered what it would take to satisfy Shiro’s insistence to search the Dark Forest. He was confident in his ability to get them back home safely, and Shiro gathered enough edible berries and mushrooms that Keith figured they could stay out here indefinitely. And yet every day, Shiro led them farther and farther from the castle. What were they looking for? 

On the fifth day, they found something. 

More accurately, something found them. 

At first, Keith had no idea what the creature was. He only knew it was big, powerful, and looked like nothing he had ever seen before outside of drawings. 

It was a griffin, if he remembered right, Keith thought, laughing to himself as he thought of the tome of impossible things still weighing down his bag. 

Maybe not so impossible after all. 

When he was young, villagers in the outlying settlements had reported a large, four-legged creature with massive wings circling high above their homes. It had been written off as a large bird of some sort, perhaps carrying prey, and it had not returned since, so the rumors had quickly died down. But Keith remembered that in the weeks following the report, his father had read him story after story about griffins from the book of fairy tales, emphasizing the parts about how to handle running into a griffin, until Krolia had called him off the subject, joking that it would encourage Keith to run off into the forest. 

Apparently his father had been right to prepare him. That was…that was a train of thought for another time. A time when they were not under attack. 

The creature had caught them unawares when they were hiking through a narrow, rocky channel. A sound like giant claws scraping across rock had come and gone overhead, and rocks had scattered to the ground around them. 

They had hurried to leave the narrow passage and find a more defensible position, but as soon as they had left the rocks behind, the creature had flown down to land in front of them with a great thud, still flapping its massive wings and staring right at them. 

No, not at them. It was staring right at Shiro with eyes glowing like embers. 

It was huge. Its claws dug powerfully into the earth, and Keith could make out a mix of dark and light feathers on its back, an unnatural shade of silvery-blue and pale white. The rest of its body was dark with stripes of bright blue like the sky. 

Nothing Keith had ever seen had coloring like that. 

His heart felt like it was beating about ten times too fast, and as crazed as the situation seemed, he could hardly keep a grin off his face. 

Shiro seemed frozen in place next to him, gaping at the creature with wide eyes. Keith pulled his blade from his waist, dropping his heavy bag and cloak to the ground with quick and practiced motions. Behind him, Corvus squawked in alarm. Keith was glad he had returned the crow to its cage that morning. Corvus tended to stay close, but this creature looked like it might eat anything that came its way. 

In his head, Keith was running through the stories he remembered from the tome. Griffins were stronger than an ox. Based on size alone, that was surely true. They were able to fly, which Keith would never have believed without seeing it. This creature seemed far too large to fly. How had the stories of supposed griffins at the forest’s edge been written off as a large bird? Sure, it looked bird-like, with the head and talons of an eagle, but it was far too massive to ever be confused for a bird. For one thing, it had the body of a lion. For another, it looked to have the strength and determination to rip them limb for limb. 

“Nice bird…thing…” Keith coaxed, stepping closer. 

Shiro was stock still at his side, and Keith moved to put himself between Shiro and the creature, which was still staring with unerring precision at Shiro’s face. 

It was an intelligent creature, according to legend. It was usually thought to guard someone or something of great value. Keith had no idea what it might be protecting. Maybe they were too close to someone or something dangerous. Keith made a mental note to steer away from this place when they got away. 

If the got away. 

Or maybe it meant they were going in the right direction. 

He thought again of the book, remembering one last fact about griffins. If attacked, a griffin would fight to the death. 

He glanced over his shoulder in time to catch Shiro holstering his bow and held up a hand to stop him. 

Maybe…he felt a little odd doing it, but if this creature was intelligent, then maybe he could reason with it. The griffin had yet to directly attack them. It seemed to be intimidating them, and it had sharp eyes that regarded Shiro in particular as if waiting for something. 

“We do not wish to fight you,” Keith called out, still holding out an arm to stop Shiro from aiming his bow. 

The creature cocked its head to the side and screeched, an awful and deafening sound. Its wings started to beat faster, and it dug its claws into the earth and pounced. Keith leapt to the side and pushed Shiro out of its way. They both hit the ground hard, rolling to their feet and turning to face the creature again. 

Again it screeched, again it pounced. This time Shiro seemed more aware, and he ducked out of the way on his own. Keith did the same. 

Surely the creature was more agile than this. If it wanted to catch them, it could have by now. 

Keith really, really hoped he had read the situation correctly. His blade was still at the ready in case the griffin got too close. 

Instead of pouncing again, though, the griffin beat its wings and rose into the air above them. The wind it stirred up was powerful enough to nearly knock Keith off his feet, throwing a storm of dust their direction. Incredible. 

It hovered almost directly above their heads, staring for what felt like an eternity. Keith twitched as he reminded himself not to throw the blade. He could probably make it to the creature’s neck from here, if he timed it right with the up-and-down motion as the creature beat its wings. He might have had a harder time when the creature was on the ground - it moved too quickly on foot. 

It was looking at them with an almost thoughtful expression now, tilting its head like a dog might. 

Keith tried his best to think of other facts he could remember from the book, other ways he could get rid of this thing, but nothing came to him. 

The creature looked at Keith for the first time in the encounter, and Keith stared right back, feeling as though it could see straight into his soul. Its eyes were bright yellow and focused, sharp. 

After what felt like a lifetime, the griffin screeched one last time and finally, ever-so-slowly, rose higher into the air and flew away. Keith watched until it went out of sight. 

Once it was gone, he huffed a laugh, feeling the rush that always accompanied a good fight, even though they had only dodged this time. 

He wondered if Shiro would be upset that Keith had held him back during the attack. He usually took lead unless Keith stepped in. Keith was glad they seemed to have a second language, that he could count on Shiro to follow his cues. 

He was also glad of his father’s books, for once. Keith had once loved those stories, imagining all sorts of adventures when he and his father read them. Then when he grew older and realized that people actually believed the stories to be real, he had become skeptical enough that he refused to read the books at all. 

He had been wrong. He was almost giddy - a younger Keith in the back of his head, untempered by logic and reason, was crowing in delight at the pure, raw excitement of it all. 

He turned to look at his friend, hoping to share his relief at their close call. 

Griffins were real. What else might be real? 

He could hardly wait to pull out the book, now. He and Shiro could read through it, making better plans now that they knew what might be out here. 

When he finally caught Shiro’s eye, though, Keith’s blade slipped from his fingers. Shiro was unfocused, eyes fixed on the ground in front of him, and he was stumbling. Time itself seemed to slow for a moment as Keith willed himself into action. 

“Shiro?” 

He made it just in time to catch Shiro before he collapsed. 

***

_Open up next to you, and my secrets become your truth_

_And the distance between that was sheltering me comes in full view  
_

\- [SB](https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=5&v=v2yPU5WPwZs)

 _Shiro_

Shiro was in a forest. 

The Dark Forest? No, that seemed wrong. This place was new. Something he had never seen before. The colors were a little too bright, the trees a little too tall. As he looked up, they seemed to grow even taller, giving Shiro the feeling that he was shrinking. Like he was sinking toward the ground. 

He was dreaming. 

Or at least, he hoped he was dreaming. This was all too...confusing to be real. Where was he? 

He looked ahead through the trees and was relieved to see that Keith was there. That was good. Keith would know where they were. 

Shiro tried to call out to him, but Keith seemed not to hear. He was glancing over his shoulder at Shiro and laughing, his eyes scrunched up, calling to Shiro hurry up. The sound echoed through the trees as if Keith was everywhere at once. 

Then Keith was running, darting under branches and around trees, disappearing and reappearing in Shiro’s line of sight. Every time he disappeared, he grew farther and farther away. 

Shiro tried to run, to move toward him. If he could just get to Keith, maybe this would all make sense. But he couldn’t move. His legs felt heavy as lead. He couldn’t lift them off the ground. 

He looked down and realized that there were hands pulling and grasping at his feet, his legs. He tried to kick them off, but he lost his balance. 

The forest started to spin around him, and Keith was too far away to notice. 

Shiro fell. 

He fell to his right side and tried to move his arm to catch himself, but then he remembered it wasn’t there. He couldn’t catch himself, and he kept falling. The ground seemed to disappear from under him. He fell down, down, down. The bright greens of the forest faded away, Keith’s laughter faded away, and everything went black. 

Shiro tried to move again and couldn’t, but it felt different this time. He was cold - he picked up his arm and realized that there were chains wrapped around his body, keeping him down. The weight of the metal pulled at his skin. 

There was a voice. A deep voice. “You have to let him go, Shiro,” it was saying. Soon, a cacophony of voices joined in. _Let him go, let him go, let him go…_ Shiro couldn’t breathe. The voices were getting closer and closer and he felt their presence suffocating him. _Let him go, let him go..._ Shiro gasped for air, and…

And he was flat on his back on the ground, in the middle of a vast meadow, sun on his face. He squinted into the light. Was he awake? 

He pushed himself up and startled when he realized he was using both his hands. He pulled them around in front of him and stared, breathing shallowly, turning them over and over again. Two hands. He had two hands. What was..? 

Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain blossom behind his eyes. His vision blurred and the meadow around him looked like nothing more than a prism of blinding colors. 

The feeling was familiar, but in a way he didn’t want to revisit. The last time he had felt like this… 

_No…please…not again…_ he thought, struggling to look around and clasping his hands to his head. 

Someone laughed, a high-pitched voice. “So you do remember me,” it said. “I had wondered. It seems many of your years have passed since last we met.” The sound pressed into his skull and Shiro covered his ears, but it did nothing. 

Many of your years? Shiro shook his head. Nothing made sense. 

_This isn’t real_ , he thought. _This isn’t happening_. 

The voice laughed again. “Oh, I assure you, I am as real as can be,” it said. Shiro felt a rush of air against his head, as if some gust of wind had swirled around him. He scrambled to move away. 

“You have passed their first test,” the voice continued, coming closer again, “but beware. At least one more challenge awaits you.” 

_What? he tried to say. What do you mean? Who are you?_

Shiro could hardly form a thought, but these were old questions, questions he had carried with him for years. There was one above all others, one he had wanted answered for so long. 

_Why?_

“Patience, Shirogane.” came the reply. “We shall meet again soon.” 

The voice cackled, and something sliced through the air around Shiro’s head again and then… The pain faded away. Shiro felt a sudden relief, but then everything around him blurred. 

Then he was on the ground again. He gasped and rolled onto his side, feeling soft earth under his fingers, along with bits of bark and tree limbs. He tried to push himself up, and his right arm was gone again. His left hand slipped and he fell back to the ground. 

Maybe this was real. It felt real this time. 

“Hey,” someone was saying, “maybe you should stay down.” Shiro opened his eyes to see Keith crouching over him, his eyes warm and his eyebrows drawn together slightly. 

“I…” Shiro coughed. His throat was raw. “I’m fine,” he managed. 

Keith breathed out an almost-laugh above him. “You had me worried there, old man,” he said. “Good to have you back.” 

Keith’s hand grasped Shiro’s shoulder, squeezing a little too tight before letting go. He really had worried Keith, then. That didn’t happen often. 

A dream. He had been dreaming. Maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe it was still just a figment of his imagination. 

Shiro closed his eyes as the voices in his dream returned to him. For just a second, he thought he felt the ghost of that voice that had been talking to him in the meadow. 

Then like a flash, like just thinking about the dream had called it forth, the pressure returned behind his eyes. 

He grunted and curled on his side, trying to shield his eyes as the pain returned to his head, the voice seeming to echo in his skull. Could Keith hear it, too? 

“Shiro!” Keith said, sounding alarmed. “What’s happening?” Shiro heard Keith moving around him, and then a hand was on his shoulder again, and another came to rest on his head, gently prodding his scalp as if checking for injury. Shiro couldn’t help the quiet noise of relief that escaped him, because the second Keith laid his fingers on Shiro’s head, the pain evaporated, and the presence drifted away as if it had never been there. 

He rolled over, trying to get up, and Keith’s body was there but it was like a shield, blocking the blinding afternoon light and somehow chasing away that voice in his head, that painful presence. 

This couldn’t be happening. Not again. Shiro pressed his face into something solid and warm - a knee, maybe - and the shape rearranged, and he was being lifted, and his face was pressing into someone’s shoulder. 

This was safe. Maybe here, he would be safe. But he couldn’t stay here long. He had to go. He had to help his dad. Someone was screaming - his mother. He had to go. He had to help them. 

“Have…to…” he couldn’t talk. 

“Have to what, Shiro?” a voice said in his ear, but it sounded so far away. 

Shiro couldn’t remember. 

“Why are you not breathing,” the same voice said a moment later, and Shiro could barely hear it over the pulsing, rushing sound in his head. A hand pressed against his chest. “Shiro, listen to me,” the voice was saying. “You need to breathe.” 

Shiro tried. He felt like he couldn’t reach anything, like his whole body belonged to someone else and he was just watching. The hand pressed harder against his chest, and he exhaled, the noise loud and wheezing like his throat was closed. He tried to breathe in, but that only made things worse. His head flooded with alarm as he tried and tried to breathe in again, only managing short, rapid breaths. 

“That’s good, keep going,” the voice said. “Try and breathe deeper, maybe, and hold it for longer. That’s what Krolia used to have me do when I had bad dreams.” 

Shiro tried, and it helped. He held his breath as long as he could and then puffed it out, over and over again. 

Slowly, the feeling started coming back in his limbs and he started to feel the ground beneath him, the hand still on his chest, the cool evening air. He heard the sound of leaves rustling in the trees overhead as a breeze blew through. 

He was exhausted. 

He pulled away from Keith and rested his forehead on his knees. 

Keith sat with him quietly, just as he always had. Shiro felt immensely grateful for Keith’s steadying presence. 

With most people, Keith was mercurial. Shiro had always thought Keith moved too fast for anyone to keep his attention for long. But somehow with Shiro, like when he was with his family, Keith reined in his abundant energy and honed his focus so all his attention was just on him. It was unnerving, sometimes, but usually it just made Shiro feel better, somehow. Like everything would be okay. 

When he picked his head up and looked around, he realized it had gotten dark. Keith was nearby, still, getting everything ready to start a fire using branches and dry leaves. Shiro watched, his arm still wrapped around his knees, as Keith scooped out a hole for the fire, clearing away anything that might catch and cause it to spread, and used his fire striker to light the tinder. The flame caught, and soon there was a crackling warmth nearby. Keith added increasingly larger twigs to the flame until it was steady enough to burn on its own for a while. He turned, and the light flickered across his face as he looked at Shiro. For a moment, they both regarded each other, Shiro trying to memorize the color of the firelight and shadows on Keith’s face, in his eyes, and Keith staring right back. With the darkened forest around them, it was like Keith’s face, firelight dancing across his features, was all Shiro could see. His entire world. 

Then a branch cracked in the distance, and Shiro blinked and startled. The moment was broken. 

Shiro looked around at the ground Keith had cleared for them near the fire. It looked comfortable, a soft bed of grass strewn with leaves and softened bark. His eyelids felt heavy. 

“You should rest,” Keith said. “I can take the first watch.” 

“Keith…” he said, his voice coming out in a whisper. He cleared his throat. “What…what happened?” He looked around. “Where are we? Last thing I remember…” 

“You passed out,” Keith said. “Right as the griffin was flying away.” 

“It left? Just like that?” 

Keith shrugged. “No intention of attacking just yet, I guess. But I think it did something to you, because you were pretty out of it for most of the time.” 

“It’s blurry, but…that’s good, I guess, that it didn’t attack. How…how did we get here?” 

“I carried you here.” Keith had an intense look in his eye, and Shiro could see he was more worried than he was letting on, with all the casual fire-starting and lack of questions. 

“You…you carried me? But…” 

“Ah, you were pretty light, old man. Carrying the bags was the real hardship.” 

Shiro laughed, but he was still surprised. That must have been no easy feat. For as sharp as Keith’s eyes were, he was moving slowly, as if he had pushed himself getting Shiro there. Getting Shiro to safety, he supposed. Keith must have worried that the griffin would come back or that they were in its territory or something. 

“Where are we?” Shiro asked, but his eyes were heavy, and he was caring less with each answer. Keith was here, and Keith had taken care of everything, and Shiro felt like he hadn’t slept in years despite being out cold, apparently, for most of the day. 

“I can explain it to you later,” Keith said. “Rest, Shiro.” 

Shiro moved closer to the fire, laid down facing the flames, and slept. 

He startled awake some time later. It was still dark, the fire had died out, and Keith was gone. A chill had crept into the forest. He sat up and looked around. The air was still, as if the forest itself was at rest. 

He heard a noise, but he knew it hadn’t woken him. It was too familiar. A soft shink, shink sound was coming from somewhere behind him. He turned and found Keith sitting, his back against a tree. He stopped sharpening his blade when he noticed Shiro was awake. 

“Hey,” Shiro said. 

“Hey, old man,” Keith said. 

They sat quietly for a moment, and then Keith set aside his blade and walked over to their bags. He pulled out a canvas sheet, doubled it up, and wrapped it around Shiro before grabbing his fire striker and rebuilding the fire. Shiro sat in silence and watched him. 

When the fire was crackling again, lighting up the trees around them, Shiro looked up. Through the branches, he could see a cluster of stars. 

“Cassiopeia?” he asked. 

Next to him, Keith shifted, leaning back to look up at the sky. 

“Close,” Keith said, following Shiro’s gaze. “That’s Capricorn, see?” He scooted closer to Shiro and leaned in to point with one hand. “It’s similar, but it’s more of a triangle shape. That - ” he pointed at a cluster of stars half hidden behind a tree “ - is part of Cassiopeia. And in the middle - ” he traced two intersecting lines “ - are Cygnus, the swan, and then Cepheus, the King. And a couple more, but the trees are in the way.” 

Keith leaned away, still looking up. Soon enough he apparently got tired of tilting his head and laid back on the ground, his eyes still on the stars. Shiro watched him for a moment and then laid next to him, the fire crackling out warmth just beyond their feet. 

Shiro felt refreshed, wide awake even though it was the middle of the night. Keith had been patient long enough. Shiro thought he owed Keith some answers. 

Shiro took a deep breath and closed his eyes. 

“When I was growing up,” he started, “it was just me and my parents. They moved us around a lot. That was...all I knew in life. For a long time. We would visit their friends sometimes, but we’d never stay too long.” He paused, glancing over to see if Keith was listening. Keith’s head was resting on his hands, and it was tilted away from the stars now. He was watching Shiro, and his eyes were blazing. 

Shiro took a breath and looked back up at the trees. “I, ah. I hated it, y’know? Traveling around all the time. We would just get used to a place. They would start sending me to a school or to one of the craftspeople so I could learn as much as possible. It would be hard at first, but people would get to know us and I would start making friends, and then one day, I would come home and find them packing again.” 

He paused and took another breath. Keith was quiet beside him. At their feet, the fire crackled and sparked as a log shifted. 

“We traveled really far, sometimes. We had this great old horse, and a cart, and…” he smiled at the memory, “when it was raining, we would put a cover over the cart and sleep underneath. But most of the time we just slept in someone’s barn. My father was a healer, and sometimes people would let us have an extra bed and give us meals if he would help them.” 

That part was easier to share. Shiro blew out a slow, even breath and continued. 

“You knew most of that already, I think. But not the rest. 

“We went to visit some distant relatives, I forget who, but they had a little shed out back that they cleared out for us. And I guess we got a little too settled in. My mother and I fixed it up and repaired it and everything. It was nice, there. It was just on the other side of the Snowy Peaks from Marmora, and it was hot and dry. I remember they had a hard time growing crops. But everyone was so happy. And they were so glad to have us there. None of us wanted to leave. 

“But then…” Shiro paused. “There was this one night, in the middle of summer. We had all the windows open to get some air. And…and something woke me up. I can’t…” he paused again. 

Then Keith shifted and took his hand, just like he had when they were kids on their tower back at the castle. He squeezed Shiro’s hand and waited. 

“It’s really hard to explain what happened,” Shiro continued. “I think about that night all the time. All I remember is…” he took a fortifying breath, but it came out shaky. 

“All I remember is, one minute it was quiet, and peaceful, and the next minute there was this…this wind. It came in through the windows and knocked everything over, there was glass breaking and paper flying everywhere. And my head. …I can’t really explain it, but I couldn’t see anything, even though I was awake. I could see shapes and outlines of things, but it was so dark, and everything was all blurry, and it hurt, and everything was so loud.” He realized he was squeezing Keith’s hand too hard, and he loosened his grip. “And then…and then my mother was screaming. I tried to get to her, but something grabbed me. And…that was the last thing I remembered. 

“When I woke up the next day they told me that my father was gone.” Shiro shut his eyes against the memory, as if it would help, swallowing the lump in his throat. “That he was… That he was dead. And my mother was there at my bedside, but she was asleep in a chair, and she looked so sad. And I tried to get up and go to her but everything hurt. There was this tight strap around the top of my right arm, and everything below it was just...gone.” 

Shiro paused again, and Keith squeezed his hand. 

He had to get out this last part. His voice was almost too quiet for his own ears. “I know this sounds crazy, but I think it’s found me again. Whatever it was that attacked us my family. I had this dream, earlier, and…it felt exactly the same. And then when I woke up, it was still there, for a second. I…for so long, I thought it was all in my head, that I made it all up, but now I’m not so sure. I think it might be after me again, and…” 

Keith let go of his hand, and Shiro’s eyes opened in surprise. When his eyes adjusted to the dim light, Keith was hovering over him, one hand on either side of Shiro. His eyes were blazing. 

“When we find it, whatever it was that attacked you, I will end it,” he said, his voice low and gravelly and dripping with venom. 

The last thing Shiro felt like doing right now was laughing, but it was just such a Keith reaction that he huffed out a breath and closed his eyes again, rubbing his hand over his face. Keith hovered for a minute and then settled in next to Shiro again. Shiro looked over at him. 

_Let him go_ , the voices in his head echoed, reminding him of his dream earlier. 

It had been a different voice than the one that had pressed its way into his skull, he was sure. Whatever was telling him to _let Keith go_ was something different altogether. Something else he would have to deal with, maybe, or just a manifestation of his subconscious telling him he needed to protect himself. Get away from Keith while he still could. 

He decided not to tell Keith about that part of the dream. 

He hated those voices, though, because they reminded Shiro of that conversation he had overheard between Keith’s parents. 

_If we’re not careful, he might be working his way into this family soon enough._

_I hardly think Shiro is capable of such machinations._

_He may not be doing anything intentionally._

_If and when anything happens, we will deal with it then._

It was a reminder that they knew, and they disapproved, and that one day, he was going to have to let Keith go. 

Someday, he thought. Maybe someday. He didn’t need the voices to remind him. He knew he would have to let Keith go. But not yet. Not when he was right here, not when he was so close to being everything Shiro had ever wanted. 

He would let Keith go. Just not yet. 

***

_All I have, all I need, he’s the air I would kill to breathe_

_Holds my life in his hands, still I’m searching for something_

_Out of breath, I am left hoping someday, I’ll breathe again_

**Author's Note:**

> More on the s8 overlap (spoilers): 
> 
> The title and quotes are from [Superposition](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oPPXn1ElqRY&feature=youtu.be), a song by Young the Giant. I loved the line "in any universe, you are my dark star" - in every universe, these two are drawn together. It's romantic, right? 
> 
> So this is an *actual* AU. As in, canon!AU exists, quintessence exists, and it turns out to be quintessence that Shiro is after - the supposed "cure" he's looking for. When he gets there, the quintessence puts him through a trial, pulling him through space and time to canon!reality, where he ends up fixing a few things.


End file.
